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To
Our Hero
From
Edward
Poem

Our Hero

Killed in action, slain while fighting for his king.
Killed in action, who could ever think of a nobler thing?
That strong, stout heart which carried him, today lies cold and still,
And he went down in glory, a soldier's grave to fill.
Now let the story echo till all the rafters ring,
Of how he died in action while fighting for his king.

The machine-gun nest was hidden, it was camouflaged from view
The orders came to clear it out, there was death in that we knew.
But up he stepped "I'll do it, sir." He was only five feet tall.
You'd never think so brave a heart was in a man so small.
Yet he stood and heard his orders, his pale face was grim.
Because he knew his Maker was reaching out for him.
We watched him climb the parapet, we watched and held our breath;
For we all knew poor old Shorty was headed for his death.
As we saw him head into danger, we breathed a silent prayer,
For we felt that this brave soldier would not return from there.
At last through dreadful hardship he reached that awful nest
And there our Lord called Shorty to his long and peaceful rest.

We don't know just what happened, but the thought filled us with pride-
For Shorty cleaned that nest out; our advance was opened wide.
So hail, hail to this soldier, he's the hero of our band.
Spread the story round the world of his deed in No-Man's-Land.

E.G.C. Richards